


all alone in a corner of the night sky

by CoffeeAndArrows



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst, also contains: me being in love with space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndArrows/pseuds/CoffeeAndArrows
Summary: Plasma swirled around the core, hot gases emitting the most beautiful array of colours, light dancing across the Doctor's face and reflecting in her eyes. Yaz had always paid attention in science class, and she couldn't count the number of documentaries she'd watched about the stars and the galaxies which contained them - but none of it had ever come close to capturing the scene playing out in front of her eyes.“It's beautiful," she said quietly, the first thing either of them had said in the half hour they had been sitting there.The Doctor smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's lonely."or, yaz and the doctor have a much needed slightly angsty (but very soft) chat
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 86





	all alone in a corner of the night sky

**Author's Note:**

> i have fully fallen into a thasmin hole and this is the outcome (also yes I really really love space okay that may have influenced this too)
> 
> and a massive thank you to sarah for sending me ideas and beta-ing and generally being great :)
> 
> title is from 'cassiopeia' by sara bareilles

She had always wanted to see the stars. When she was a child it had been a dream, a vague fantasy, one that was so distant and unreachable that she should have dismissed it immediately - and yet, she never could. 

She  had been the child who  spent hours on warm summer nights lying on the grass in the back garden of her family home, relishing in the way the sky faded from soft oranges and pinks to deeper purples and blues, eventually reaching a deep, dark hue that always felt as though it held countless stories, far too many to name. Her sister had laughed when she had tried to explain. Her mother had sighed, muttering about grass stains and finding something useful to do but none of them had been able to stop her. 

The swirling colours and twinkling lights seemed to call to her, whispers of adventure tempting her from across the stars. 

As she  had  gotten older, she had found other ways to fill her time : school became busy, family life became busier, and she had friends and extracurriculars and  _ real _ hobbies. And yet when she walked home late in winter, as the evenings started to draw in and the light faded earlier and earlier, her eyes always found the sky. She couldn't help it. Despite the street lamps that lined the roads near her house and the clouds that always seemed to obscure the  stars , her gaze was drawn upwards to the imagined sense of adventure that waited, sparkling and bright and poetic.

It wasn't the  _ reason _ she became a police officer - that list of reasons was endless - but she couldn't deny that craving the rush that staring up at the stars gave her had played a part. It had felt like the right decision, at the time. Like it was just meant to be. And somehow, through some wild twist of fate that she could never in her wildest dreams have imagined, that decision had led her here. 

_ Here _ being the middle of space, light years from home and a million miles from the nearest planet, sitting in a faded blue police box with a paint chip on the door frame, swinging her legs into space. The light inside the  Tardis  was dim, synced to their sleep patterns, but she had woken up early and found the  Doctor sitting  there , and had been unable to stop herself from going to sit beside her, staring out at the nebula they were drifting around. 

Plasma swirled around the core, hot gases emitting the most beautiful array of colours, the light dancing across the  Doctor's face and reflecting in her eyes. She  had  always paid attention in science class, and she couldn't count the number of documentaries she'd watched about the stars and the galaxies which contained them - but none of it had ever come close to capturing the scene playing out in front of her eyes.

“It's beautiful," she said quietly, the first thing either of them had said in the half hour they had been sitting there. 

The  Doctor smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Yaz turned her head, waiting for a response she knew she wasn't going to get.

The  Doctor had been quieter, lately. The bubbly, charismatic person they  had  known for over a year had faded, the excitement in her eyes feeling  more like a facade every time it appeared. She was crumbling, and so far she still seemed insistent to keep whatever was tearing her apart to herself, choosing to stare out at the stars rather than sleep, float around galaxies in the early morning rather than talk about whatever it was that was bothering her.

"It's lonely," a quiet voice said from beside her, and Yaz's heart twisted in her chest. She  had  never felt lonely up here - not with Ryan and Graham and the  Doctor beside her every second of the day - but it was easy to imagine how isolating it could feel without the anchor she  had  left back home. Unlike her, the  Doctor didn't have roots laid somewhere else, and this admission felt bigger than it should. 

Perhaps it was the quiet morning that the  Doctor needed or perhaps it was being able to see the galaxy laid out in front of them, vast and unending, too big for even her to ever understand. (Perhaps she'd been waiting until it was just them, Yaz wondered, ignoring the burst of warmth that spread out from her stomach at the idea, wrapping it's fingers around her heart and travelling right down to her toes.)

She pulled her legs up and turned so she was sitting with her back against the open  Tardis  door, gaze fully fixed on the  Doctor's, refusing to let herself get distracted by the reflections of unnameable colours and patterns swirling across her skin. She looked… sad wasn't the right word, it was too strong, too harsh. Melancholy, perhaps. A little lost. Which was ironic, considering that she had the ability to travel across all of space and time at the tips of her fingers - but then again, Yaz supposed, if you had the ability to go anywhere, where did you go? If there were no limits and no restrictions, it would be easy to get a little lost along the way.

She knew _ she _ would. 

She  _ had _ , in the past, when she had been overwhelmed by the loneliness she couldn’t shake off, no matter how hard she  had  tried. She was  only  human, she couldn’t time travel, and she hadn’t lived through a fraction of the things the  Doctor had - but when it came down to it, she supposed the feelings were the same. “I hate feeling alone,” she said quietly, knowing she had the  Doctor’s attention despite her not shifting or acknowledging  her  words. “But I’m good at it.”

The  Doctor’s eyebrows turned down ever so slightly, and Yaz watched her carefully. She didn’t usually talk, not like this. She was honest and could chat all day long, and didn’t try to  _ hide _ things - but she never talked about things like these with anyone, let alone the  Doctor. But someone had to open up if they were ever going to get anywhere. Perhaps if she started talking first, the  Doctor's story would follow. 

“I used to drive my sister mad,” she said quietly, looking back out to the stars. She could feel the  Doctor’s gaze subtly turning to her, but she chose to ignore it for the time being, telling her story to the beautiful light display swirling in front of her instead. “I wouldn’t talk. If things were going badly, I would bottle it up until it overwhelmed me, and she would get so worried because she knew I would do something stupid.” 

The low hum of the  Tardis  almost masked her quiet words, but she saw the Doctor’s head tilt and couldn’t help but wonder whether the question on the tip of her tongue was about nightmares, and the things they  had  all just been forced to live through. She would ask about what the  Doctor had seen in her nightmares, if she thought she would get an answer. (She might, if she asked right now. The lighting was just right and the morning had barely begun and they were both distracted enough by the stars, both softened enough by each other’s presence.) 

“There’s so much I don’t understand,” the  Doctor murmured, and Yaz didn’t think it was a comment directed towards her. She didn’t know what it meant, really. She didn’t know what there was to understand that the  Doctor couldn’t - she was the most incredible, intelligent person she had ever been lucky enough to meet. But for all of her intelligence, she still didn’t seem to know how to open up - or, perhaps, she wasn’t sure whether they would listen. She had lived through seemingly infinite lives and part of Yaz wondered whether she  _ could _ understand what was going through the  Doctor’s head or whether it would be too much for her to wrap her head around. As soon as she had  that  thought though, she saw the pain in the  Doctor’s eyes swirl, mixing with the fear and confusion and hopelessness that had been hiding just behind the mask, and these were emotions she knew. Her heart twisted slightly, aching even more than before. 

These were human emotions.

They were painfully human. The Doctor’s heart was pouring out and Yaz found herself desperate to stop it, to save it, to piece it back together. Overstepping would be bad, but  _ not _ trying to help when she could…  She’d never do that. She inhaled slowly, taking a careful breath before deciding to say what was on her mind, words gentle and cautious but so, so important. 

“I think you’re so used to being alone that you don’t know how to  _ have _ people. We’ve all noticed that you never talk about yourself, or about your home. You like us to think  that  you’re strong and in control, and every time something goes wrong you need to be the one to fix it.”

The Doctor frowned and looked over to her as if she was about to argue that she  _ did _ have to be the one to fix things, because she had brought them here in the first place, but her shoulders sagged before she had even begun to speak. Silence filled the space between them, and Yaz tilted her head slightly. The Doctor looked smaller all of a sudden. If it was possible to look more lost than she had earlier, she did. 

"I can't fix this," she admitted.

Fix  _ what?  _

She couldn't count the number of times  that  she, Ryan and Graham had told the Doctor that they would listen, when she wanted to talk. Even so, she wasn't tired of repeating it. She never would be until the Doctor finally paid attention to what they had all spent the last few weeks saying.

The Doctor swallowed. "When I said I went home when I was alone, it was the truth… Just not all of it." 

Yaz waited.

"It's gone. It's gone, and there's no one left."

The lighting flickered as plasma swirled outside the doors of the lonely, seemingly insignificant police box drifting aimlessly through space. Yaz's heart sank, despite not quite managing to wrap her head around all the pieces of this story yet. The Doctor fiddled with her hands, fingers running over a short, shallow cut she had gotten a few days ago in 14th century Greece.

"The  Master destroyed Gallifrey, my planet," she eventually elaborated, uncharacteristically quiet. Yaz froze. "I didn't have family there, not anymore, but even so, he set the whole city ablaze and  razed it to the ground …  All to get back at me. Or… I don't  _ know _ . To make a point."

_ My oldest friend, _ she  had  once told them.  _ And my oldest enemy.  _

An enemy who would destroy the Doctor’s whole world, her  _ home _ , just to prove a point that no one could even follow. 

"I can't find any answers. I've been back over and over again and I've searched everywhere, turned over every stone, tried  _ everything _ to work out some reason why. But I can't find one. I can't find anything at all. The people there… We didn't see eye to eye and I hadn't been back in years, but they were as close as I had to  family, when it came down to it. Only now it's all gone and there's no one left who can help."

"That's not true," Yaz interrupted softly, cutting the Doctor off. "There  _ are _ people who can help. We might not be the most useful, but me, Ryan, Graham… we're all here."

The Doctor remained quiet, and Yaz couldn't help feeling as though she was missing something big, something the Doctor was fighting to hold in case it hurt her. Her eyes flickered over the Doctor's pained expression and without meaning to, she found herself quietly prompting, "say it."

Whatever it was, she didn't want it hanging between them like this. There were enough secrets already without adding to the pile. 

The Doctor exhaled slowly, weary from years of the same experiences, the ache in her eyes betraying her true age for once rather than the bubbly, youthful persona she usually seemed to have. Her voice was quiet, and resigned. "You'll leave."

Yaz's heart caught in her throat. 

Instantly, she wanted to promise she wouldn't. That they'd all stay here in this moment forever, that they could travel through space and time for the rest of their lives. But she  _ couldn't _ , not when it might be a lie - she didn't want to leave and she had no plans to, but she had a life back home, she had parents and her sister and friends and a job she  had  worked so hard to get, and only last week Ryan had asked her how long she was planning on sticking around as though he was already starting to think about returning. She couldn't promise not to leave if there was a chance she would break that promise later. 

And yet…  If she had to choose right now between staying here or giving this life up in order to keep what she had back on Earth, she knew which option she would pick. How could she pick anything else, with the stars still calling her name?

Yaz fixed her eyes on the Doctor’s, firm and steady and true. "I'm here now. And I'm not planning on leaving, not anytime soon."

It wasn't the right thing to say, because the words hadn't hit their mark. Yaz shifted, crossing her legs so she could lean closer, still resisting the urge to reach out, wary of pouring too much of her heart out but on the verge of throwing caution to the wind. 

"Listen. I'm sticking around. I don't know how to make you believe me, but even if I do end up going back to Earth, I'm not going to forget about you or leave you and lose contact with you. You  _ matter _ to me. And if you need me - like you do now - I'll be there. And even if I can't help, I'll still be here to listen.  _ Always _ ."

The Doctor swallowed the lump in her throat and Yaz watched her, heart aching. She didn't know how she could be any clearer. The Doctor’s words played on  a  loop over and over in her head.  _ They were as close as I had to _ __ _ family… _

That wasn't true. Not if what the Doctor had just told her was the truth - they didn't see eye to eye, and she  had  tried as hard as she could to avoid them over the years. Yaz's lips curled up slightly, a gentle smile creeping across her cheeks. "When you call us  ‘ the fam ’ , do you mean it?" she asked, watching emotions flicker across the  Doctor's  face . She could see the cogs turning, thoughts that had never fully been processed settling into place. 

"I do," the Doctor admitted, uncharacteristically cautious, as though she expected Yaz to be taken aback by the admission. 

Yaz's heart skipped a beat and her smile widened. She reached out, finding one of the Doctor's hands and clasping it between both of her own. How long had it been since someone held her hand? It could have been years, for all Yaz knew. 

"Good. Because you're family to me, too. And family talks to each other, and listens, and cares.”

Family held each other close when they needed it. Family loved each other, just as she loved the Doctor. Nothing could ever stop her from loving the Doctor, in so many ways. She had lost her ability to control her heart a few weeks into this incredible journey, and she didn’t think she  would  regain that control anytime soon. Now wasn’t the time - she wasn’t sure she would ever find the right time - but that didn’t matter. Right now, this wasn’t about the butterflies that swirled in her stomach the moment the Doctor met her eyes, or the way her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat every time the Doctor pulled her into a hug or slipped her fingers into Yaz’s or gave her that small, proud smile that was reserved just for her. It wasn’t about  the  way she would stick her tongue out slightly when she was concentrating or the way she looked with her goggles down, coat thrown aside, halfway through producing some incredible invention. It wasn’t about Yaz, and her inescapable, inevitable feelings.

It was about making sure the woman sat beside her knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was loved - even when she didn’t want to talk anymore and was instead choosing to keep things to herself, eyes fixed on their tangled fingers but mouth firmly shut.

Yaz smiled softly to herself. They had made progress. The Doctor was one step closer than she had been to telling her the full story - the  _ whole _ story, without bits and pieces missing because she was a little too scared to share them.

She lightly squeezed the Doctor’s hand, shifting so she was once again sitting at the edge of the floor with her legs swinging into space, only this time staying close enough  that  her arm was lightly brushing against the Doctor’s, reminding her that she was right  there  beside her. Her gaze drifted back out to the stars, twinkling against the deep, velvet backdrop. They didn't look  the same as she had imagined them as a child, and the life she was living now was beyond the wildest dreams of the nine year old lying alone in her back garden, imagining adventures and beautiful views and breathtaking sights that could never be described in words. But if she went back and tried to explain this experience, that girl would never have understood why it would one day mean the world to her.

She would never understand that if the stars disappeared from the sky and the adventures ceased, it wouldn't matter. Space was beautiful. It was breathtaking. But it was the  _ people _ who mattered - when it came down to it, it was the woman sitting beside her, tired and broken but loving and exhilarating, all the same, who made this worthwhile. Yaz wasn't sticking around to see more planets. She was staying because the people she loved, the family she had found along the way, were  there  with her, floating through a galaxy so distant it had never been given a name, surrounded by beauty, but most importantly, surrounded by the love they had for each other. 

She wouldn’t want it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> now everyone go listen to 'rainbow connection' by sleeping at last because I listened to it on repeat whilst writing this and it really sums up the vibe of this fic (yes it's a cover and yes the original is by kermit the frog but I found this out after okay and by that point it was tOO LATE)
> 
> come yell at me on tumblr (@z-tomaz) or twitter (which I barely use) (@z_tomaz)
> 
> also comments make me very happy, just saying :)


End file.
